


The King's Journey

by rushingwind



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rushingwind/pseuds/rushingwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radek Zelenka's circus is slowly, but surely, failing. When his sponsor brings in Rodney McKay, a has-been artistic director to help rescue the roadside business, it creates discord and threatens to split apart the happy troupe family. However, it soon becomes apparent that of all of them, Rodney's cloudy past aches with such pain that he needs the comfort of their family more than anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own _Stargate_ , _Barnum and Bailey_ , or _Cirque du Soleil_. Also, _Phantom of the Opera_ belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber, despite what you will read in this story.
> 
> Written for an AU fication on Livejournal, with the following prompt: "Zelenka is a retired-acrobat who owns his own circus. Rodney is a retired Broadway has-been. They team up, and transform the circus to the proportions of Cirque du Soleil, and become attracted to each other in the process." 
> 
> Originally written in 2007.

Radek Zelenka watched from behind the stands as Elizabeth Weir flipped and tumbled in the air, high above the ground (and the net) as she completed the same routine that she performed every single night. It was flashy and looked difficult, all while remaining in a certain zone of safety.

The sales that night were dismal, to say the least. Years ago, when Radek had been the star acrobat, they used to pack the stands every Friday night. However, the interstate had opened up nearby, and no one passed through this part of Nevada anymore. And why should they? Two hours in the other direction was Las Vegas, and there they could see all kinds of incredible shows. 

Of course, they’d pay more in Las Vegas, and it wasn't the most family-friendly environment. Families were the ones that still came out to see the circus for the eight-dollar first-Saturday-of-the-month special. But tonight…

This was just _bad_. There were only twenty-five people in the audience, meaning a gross of about two hundred dollars in tickets. He would have to check the concession stands, but they didn't look very busy. Unless Sunday provided phenomenal sales, the circus wouldn't even be breaking even this week. Again.

The voice of his illustrious acrobat-turned-Ringleader, John Sheppard, blared on the intercom. “And remember, folks, tonight’s show is sponsored in part by CEO of Emmagan Enterprises, Teyla Emmagan. ‘Emmagan Enterprises: Taking you back to the old days.’ Be sure to check out their website at….”

Radek sighed, craning his neck around the corner to see Teyla sitting in the front row, smiling brilliantly. She had been to every performance, without fail, for ten years (and had been sponsoring the show for at least fifteen). Her father, the founder of Emmagan Enterprises, had brought her here as a child, and she had been coming ever since. Even when the circus didn't break even (which had been happening more often than not in the last year), she would just smile and sign paychecks anyway. But he had a terrible feeling that she was starting to grow impatient with the lack of income. Any sane businesswoman would.

Laura Cadman was up on the tightrope next, and Radek reflexively gripped the handlebar on the sidewalk tightly. He always worried for the safety of everyone in his troupe, but his acrobats he watched most carefully. Perhaps it was because he used to perform the most difficult maneuvers in this very building, but whatever the reason, his heart always beat faster when they were up on the high rise.

Laura gracefully crossed the rope, turning for a return trip. She took three small steps, and Radek saw it a mere second before it actually occurred: the rope snapped. The balancing beam she had carried wobbled dangerously, smacking her forehead and silencing her shriek of surprise. Completely limp, she fell and landed in the net. 

Radek made a beeline for the net, pushing John out of the way as he rushed to Laura’s side. She was completely unresponsive, and he knew all too well that moving her after such a steep fall was unwise. 

John’s voice called out over the intercom once again. “Is there a doctor in the house? Anyone?”

“Over here! I’m a doctor!”

Radek looked up to see a man he knew very well. Carson Beckett, a local doctor and regular attendee of the circus had already jumped the barrier around the seating area and was rushing towards the net.

A deep groan from Laura drew his attention, and she began to stir. “Ow…what happened?”

* * *

Well after midnight, Radek set his coffee down on the table and buried his face in his hands. Along with all concession totals, they’d grossed only three hundred and twelve dollars. If Sunday was more of the same, then once all employees were paid, and the utilities taken care of, they would be close to five thousand in the negative for the year.

There was a knock at his door, and he turned to see Teyla standing outside. “Hello,” he breathed, smiling warmly at her.

“Hello,” she answered, a tired smile on her face. “Doctor Beckett informed me that Laura will be spending the night in St. Marshall’s Hospital for observation, but that she will be all right.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “A minor concussion, but no spinal trauma. As you may imagine, I am relieved.”

She sat down beside him, a pensive look on her face, and he knew all too well what was coming next.

“Radek,” she began softly, “you know that I love this circus, and that I've been sponsoring it for years.” She sighed. “However, lately… it’s no longer making a profit.” She held up her hand quickly. “Now, this isn't a problem. Relative to the amount of money my corporation puts into its various endeavors, this place is very cheap to run.”

He frowned. “No one wants to come to old circus when Las Vegas is nearby.” Shrugging, he swiveled his chair to face her. “A circus is not flashy or colorful anymore.”

“About that,” she interrupted. “I know you’re rather sensitive about being told how to run your circus, but if you’d humor me, I may have an idea.”

He smiled and nodded. “You are our sponsor. I will listen to anything you say.” 

She grinned at his response, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I have an old friend in the stage acting business. Musicals, plays, those sorts of shows. He’s quite accomplished, and a few years ago, he’d expressed a desire to work with a circus. He despises the ‘cheap’ style of most Las Vegas shows, and believed he could transform a circus into a more colorful performance than anything on the Strip.” She took out a card, and extended it to Radek. “I spoke to him earlier this afternoon, and he still would like the opportunity to work with a circus.”

He took the card, and briefly read the header. “Rodney McKay, Screenwriter and Artistic Director.” The bottom of the card identified Julliard as his place of training, causing Radek to frown.

“Trained at Julliard? Why is he interested in a dusty place like this?”

She tilted her head, a grin showing on her face. “I have powers of persuasion. Besides, he almost took the job without pay. Said something about a hometown play he really didn't want to direct.” 

Radek snorted noncommittally. He couldn't very well reject Teyla’s proposition, because after all, she was the sponsor and the sole reason the circus was still in operation—something he was beyond grateful for.

She sighed, apparently at his conflicted expression, and leaned back in the dusty folding chair. “Don’t worry, Radek. If you say no then I’ll send him away. I won’t stop sponsoring the circus anytime soon.” Smiling, she put a reassuring hand on his arm. “I know how much you love this circus, and I only want to see it do well for you and the troupe.”

He glanced at the business card once again, and nodded slowly. “Yes, of course. I’d love to speak with him.”

Teyla’s grin was bright and cheerful. “Really? That makes me very happy! He’s already on his way, and should be here in time to see the show tomorrow night.” She stood, and made her way to the door. “Thank you, Radek.”

He smiled, but he was afraid it was forced. “No, thank you.”

She left, but Radek remained in the dusty room, starting at red numbers on a paper that could ultimately spell the doom of his beloved circus. 

_His_ circus. 

It had been his father’s circus many years ago, after he had immigrated from Europe with his mother as political refugees many years ago. They had started with a few friends and it had been an instant hit with the locals and the tourists passing through to California. They’d never toured like the more traditional circuses, and previously had no need to. All the customers came to them. But after the interstate was constructed, people didn't pass by anymore, and the business slumped. Radek had inherited the circus many years ago, and now it didn't even break even anymore.

He looked again at the card. The thought of someone he didn't know coming in and messing with his beloved circus made him feel queasy, but at the end of the day he didn't know what else to do. Teyla was kind, but he knew the circus had been a point of contention between her and her company’s board of directors. Eventually, they would overrule her and pull the sponsorship, despite her best efforts.

* * *

Rodney McKay, as it turned out, was a severe looking man in his forties. Radek had watched him more intently than his performers that night, peering from around the corner of the ring. He appeared to be... good god, he was taking _notes_. Had he _never_ been to a circus before?

After the show, Teyla brought him over to the troupe, singling out Radek in the corner. He was a bit preoccupied with packing up Ronon’s gear at the moment, but set it down on the sandy floor to greet them, mostly out of respect for Teyla.

“Radek! This is the director I told you about last night! Radek Zelenka, Rodney McKay!” She turned to Rodney. “Rodney McKay, Radek Zelenka.”

The two men shook hands quickly, and Rodney huffed at something. “Allergies, sorry,” he explained quickly.

“There is not much in this dry air.”

“Well, it doesn't take much for me. I’m deathly allergic to citrus, in forewarning.”

Teyla glanced between the two men, and scrunched her forehead. “Well, I’ll leave you two to discuss things.” 

As he watched her receding form, Radek sighed. “She made you do this, didn't she?”

Rodney frowned. “I was told about a ‘delightful opportunity’ to work with her favorite circus. I thought I was in hell directing my local high school’s rendition of ‘Hamlet’, but I certainly didn't expect to be dropped into unbearable torture like this.”

“What is wrong with my circus?!” Radek hissed, inflamed that this man had the gall to say such a thing.

“Let’s try _everything_.” Rodney’s expression was grim. “I thought I was going to be getting a professional troupe. People with _real_ training.”

“We do have real training!”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that,” he said, oblivious to Radek’s anger. He began to write on his notepad again, glancing up at the high rise. “Say, how many acrobats did you have tonight?”

“Five.”

Rodney frowned. “Oh, that won’t work. We need more… six at the very least.”

“The sixth is out of commission for a week. She had a nasty fall last night. And there are a few others who perform one weekend a month.”

“Are they all women?”

“No, of my full-time performers four are women and two are men.”

“Perfect!” he screeched, writing more on the notepad, but stopped suddenly. “Wait, I only saw four acrobats tonight.”

“John Sheppard, my announcer, is also a trained acrobat. I removed him from high rise for a month because he won’t stop doing crazy stunts on show nights.”

Rodney wrote down the name, and drew some sort of chart on the paper. “Who are your other acrobats?”

“Elizabeth Weir is my star acrobat. She performed for Barnum and Bailey for ten years before she came here—oh, seven years ago.”

He wrote her name on the notepad. “Good god, what is she doing in this sinkhole? With her experience she could get a job on the Strip making five times what she gets here.”

Radek resisted the urge to shout at him for insulting the circus. “Yes, well, she is our star for a _reason_.”

“And the other acrobats?”

“Katie Brown—she’s a local. Loves her job. Laura Cadman is the woman who was injured last night. Kate Heightmeyer is another acrobat. She moved here from San Bernardino, California just to get away from home. Hasn't left for fifteen years.”

“Could we just get names, and not biographies?” Rodney interrupted. 

Radek huffed in disgust, but for Teyla’s sake remained civil. “The last acrobat is Evan Lorne. He’s fairly agile, and has a lot of brute strength.”

He stopped writing, and glanced over what was already on the page. “And I already met Ronon Dex… and… Chuck, your resident firedancers and animal charmers, yes?”

“They do a bit of everything, yes.”

“Great! We’ll get started tomorrow!”

* * *

“Whoa, whoa, wait, we’re gonna do _what_?” Katie Brown was not one to speak up often, and the expression on her face would have been hilarious if everyone else hadn't felt the same way.

Rodney tried to smile, and failed, so went with an exasperated scowl instead. “You heard me right. Everyone, acrobat or not—and yes, that includes those of you who only perform one weekend a month—will be starting dance classes later today. Let’s see here…” He glanced down at a schedule. “Ladies, there’ll be a Belly Dancing instructor here at eleven, and then at one you’ll be taking Latin dance. Men, you’ll have a gymnastics class at eleven, and then at one you’ll take Latin dance with the ladies. Everyone, acrobat or not, will be taking Capoeira at three, Yoga at four, and then Tai Chi at six.”

“Every day?”

Rodney frowned. “Yes. _Every_ day.”

“When will we practice for the weekend shows?”

“We’re closed for next three months,” Radek answered, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, you are all still getting paid.”

It was silent following that, so Rodney apparently assumed everyone was listening. “We’re going to re-imagine this circus, if you will. We’ll take the extreme thrills of high rise acrobatics, add a flare of dance and grace, and combine it all for a dreamlike, graceful, colorful show.” He scribbled something down on his notepad, and then looked up. “We’ll tell stories to our audience! So, any questions?”

Radek wrinkled his nose at his melodrama as John raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“You do know we’re a circus troupe, and not a herd of dancing ballerinas, right?”

Rodney glared at him, his temper flaring. “Any _real_ questions?”

It was silent for a moment, then Ronon took a step forward. “Yeah, I have a question. Do I have to take the dance classes?”

“Yes.” He stopped, and looked up. “And actually, I’m trying to get in touch with a contact. I want to get a Hawaiian firedancer out here to train you.”

Ronon’s resulting deathglare was enough to shock the older man into attention.

“I _am_ a Hawaiian firedancer.”

“Oh? Okay, never mind about that, then.” He shuddered a bit, but amazingly, he stood his ground. “You… uh… still have to take dance.”

Radek could've sworn he heard Ronon growl in response, but the large man slowly fell back into the group and accepted his fate. At the very least, he wouldn't have to explain Rodney’s premature death to Teyla. 

“We’re not doing so well as you all know,” he spoke up softly, trying to soothe the jitters that he could see on his troupe’s faces, “so we’re trying make changes to bring crowds back.”

As reassuring as he tried to sound, Radek did not feel the least bit comfortable with what Rodney was proposing.

* * *

Radek had made a point of taking the classes with all the others to show that he supported their new plans. By the end of the night, he was so sore he could barely move—as were most others. Rodney, of course, hadn't attended the classes, citing a bad back, or something like that. 

While everyone limped back to their rooms, he made his way out to the huge, empty show room—same as he did every night. He loved to sit in the stands and stare up at the empty space in the dark. Sometimes he would even climb to the top of the high rise and sit on the platform, staring out at the tightrope, or at the oversized swings.

Tonight, much to his dismay, Rodney McKay was also sitting in the stands, drawing in his notebook. Somehow, he heard Radek, but didn't look up. “Classes over?”

Radek wanted to make an obscene gesture, but was just sore enough that it would probably hurt. “Yes.”

Rodney continued to draw, glancing up at the high rise every so often. Eventually, this intrigued Radek, so he closed the distance between them to get a closer look at the notebook.

“What are you drawing?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m brainstorming various remodeling ideas. I want to preserve the basic structure, but I want to make it look more… glitzy.”

Radek wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I think a new coat of paint would help greatly.”

“Yes, about that. A dark color would do nicely—maroon, or maybe dark blue.”

He paused a moment, and stared up at the domed ceiling in contemplation. “Perhaps a shade of royal blue would look nice…”

“And new outfits,” Rodney added. “Teyla’s given me a budget to—.”

“Given _us_ a budget, you mean.”

“Yes, of course, us. Anyway, Teyla has given _us_ a budget to buy some new things, fund these classes, hire new people…”

“Hire new people?!” Radek sputtered. “If there is to be any hiring done, I will supervise whom I want in my troupe!”

Rodney looked annoyed, but didn't raise his voice. “Yes, well, I’m not hiring any more acrobats if that’s what you’re thinking. I wanted to hire a professional singer or two… maybe a small band. Live music adds flare to anything.”

“I get to interview them as well.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Maybe some stagehands later on, too.” He began to write again, and then stopped just as suddenly. “Your performers are quite talented, actually.”

It was the nicest thing Rodney McKay had said about the circus since he’d arrived. “Thank you…”

Rodney shrugged, looking quite pleased with himself. “They just lack the finesse of a more professional operation. That’s why I’m here.”

Radek found himself frowning again. “Well, good night,” he groaned, standing quickly and leaving before he said anything that he might regret later.

* * *

A month passed, and things got progressively worse. Rodney was becoming obsessive about the smallest things, and upsetting people who’d been with the troupe for years. Some of his most beloved members were casually talking about quitting, which alarmed Radek greatly. 

Surprisingly, Elizabeth Weir, the one he’d worried the most about, was not one of them. He hadn't known what to expect from her as the tensions began to mount, because after all, she was his star acrobat, and possessed significant training and ‘finesse’ as Rodney put it. He feared she might prove to be a prima donna after all. Instead she was a calm voice of reason among the troupe, advising them to wait it out and see how things went.

Radek thought he would fall down and kiss her feet when she managed to prevent John Sheppard and Kate Heightmeyer from leaving. There had been a particularly nasty argument between John, Kate, and Rodney that night…

The arguments were becoming more and more frequent as of late, especially between Rodney and himself. They had not come to harsh words just yet, but Radek feared such a disagreement was lurking just around the corner.

The large, domed performance area was in a state of mild remodeling. The two men had haggled over just exactly what was to be done, but in the end Radek had to admit that Rodney’s changes looked good. Not just good, but... _good_. 

He looked up to survey the current progress. Contractors had painted the inside of the dome a dark shade of blue, and were in the process of completely remodeling the high rise. At Radek’s discretion, they had replaced the large swings they normally used with smaller, sturdier versions. Also new was a system of pulleys and harnesses in the rafters for the acrobats to use during shows, a complicated contraption that would allow them to drop all the way to the ground and sail back to the ceiling. 

A few more stagehands would be needed for that kind of operation, though.

He’d hired a small group of musicians, and a lovely, timid singer by the name of Ayiana. The musicians played, for the most part, ethnic instruments—something Rodney was singing the praises of, claiming that the ‘big band’ sound just wasn't appropriate for what _he_ had planned.

Radek was doing his best to remain optimistic, but his patience with Rodney was quickly waning. More and more, Rodney was acting like a pompous brat, as if the circus belonged to him and him alone. While Radek tried not to be offended and attributed it to a prima donna attitude, it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Ayiana was practicing with the new sound system that Rodney had wanted installed, her lovely voice echoing throughout the dome. Her voice trilled in some ancient, unknown language, the melody soothing his frayed nerves as he listened intently. In fact, it almost made the circus seem like a foreign place, the newly remodeled dome seeming a bit alien for the first time.

She completed her song a few minutes later, and slowly made her way over to him. “Mr. Zelenka, I...”

“Ayiana, please. I have told you to call me Radek. ‘Mr. Zelenka’ makes me feel old.” 

She nodded quickly. “Mister…uh, I mean... Radek, I didn't know you were in here. Did you mind me practicing?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, not at all. Your song was lovely.”

She blushed a bit, and smiled. “It... uh... it was in Latin. But you see, the band plays a drone in the background, and I sing it to the five tones of the drone, and it sounds kind of foreign. I think so, at least…”

He smiled. “I do not know much about music, I’m afraid.”

She fidgeted nervously. “I wanted to ask you something. Mr. McKay, is he from New York City?”

Radek shook his head. “No, he’s from Vancouver, Canada. Why do you ask?”

“I was a back-up singer a long time ago on Broadway, and I think I remember his name being tossed around. I’m fairly sure I recognize him... but... he had more hair…”

He frowned. “No, you must be mistaken. Teyla told me that he was an artistic director for plays, not musicals."

She looked disappointed. “Oh, really? I was...okay, I guess Mrs. Teyla would know. I was wrong. I’m sorry.” She fidgeted again. “I guess I’ll go now, Mr. Zelenka.”

He patted her on the back. “It’s _Radek_. And don’t forget to come by later tonight. Teyla will be here with the copies of our new programs.”

She skittered away quickly, reminding him of a tiny mouse fleeing the grasp of a predator. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Rodney McKay, a producer on Broadway? It was quite laughable, really. What would he be doing all the way in the back roads of Nevada if he had such an illustrious career in New York City?

Besides, no matter what the man’s talents were, Radek had already decided that enough was enough. A long, insightful conversation with Teyla was in order. The stress levels were too high, and people were threatening to quit. Elizabeth, mother that she was to everyone, wouldn't be able to keep the troupe calm forever, and he knew Teyla _wouldn't_ let the place fall apart. At the very least, she’d tell the man to back down a bit, and let Radek run his circus.

* * *

When he came to the troupe meeting, he had to remind himself to stay calm. Blurting out in front of Teyla and the rest of the troupe that Rodney was causing problems wouldn't help things. After all, they were getting to see the new programs, and that should be fun, right?

Unsurprisingly, Rodney wasn't there yet, and everyone was cheerful. Teyla bounced over to them happily, offering a handful of programs as she smiled brilliantly.

“Hello everyone! I have the new programs for you to see. There are only five copies tonight, and of course there will be minor changes before we reopen, but the printer is waiting on our confirmation to print the full complement.”

Radek glanced at the inside. Overall, they didn't look very different from the original programs, but at least the printer had spelled everyone’s name correctly this time. Moreover, to his delight, everyone was properly credited—another step in the right direction.

Ayiana was there, hiding within the group, and she slowly pushed her way to him. “Mr. Zelenka, I need to speak with you.”

He smiled. “Please, Ayiana, how many times do I have to say? I am Radek, not ‘Mr. Zelenka.’”

“Yes, sorry Mister...I mean, Radek.” She looked terribly uncomfortable. “I really need to speak to you, sir, when you have a moment.”

In true McKay fashion, Rodney stormed in loudly, the entire troupe looking up as he approached the main chamber. “Sorry I’m late,” he called out, not sounding apologetic at all. “Let’s see if the printer managed to do his job properly.”

“They are similar to old ones,” Radek told him, handing him the program. “But everyone has name spelled correctly.”

He snatched the document out of Radek’s hands, and perused it a moment. “Wait, where’s my name?”

“At the bottom. Underneath acrobats.”

The look on Rodney’s face was aghast. “What?! ‘Artistic Co-Designer’, Rodney McKay?!” He looked up in disbelief. “Artistic Co-Designer?!”

“Yes...what is wrong?” Radek asked him, afraid that he was about to throw a serious temper tantrum.

Teyla apparently also sensed this, and moved in quickly to intervene. “Rodney,” she whispered, “This isn’t—.”

“The hell it isn't!” he interrupted her, his face turning red. “I have been in here every day for the last month and a half, and I've been trying to redesign this... this... _sinkhole_ into something worthwhile, and all I get is ‘Artistic Co-Designer’?!”

“Yes, that’s all you get!” Radek shouted back, his anger from the earlier confrontation reemerging. “This is not your circus! It is mine!”

“But it’s my show!” he screamed— _screamed_ —back. 

“No, it is not! It is my circus, my troupe, _my_ show!” Radek crossed his arms defiantly. “You cannot come in here and upset my troupe, and degrade us with your pompous attitude!”

Rodney’s face turned beet red, and Radek thought that if he peered close enough, he might see steam rising from his ears. “No! This is my show, not yours! I wrote it, I conceived it, you didn't! You can just steal it from me, Acastus!!”

Radek was about to shout back, but froze in stunned silence instead. “…Acastus?”

_“What?”_ Rodney sputtered, so angry that he looked like he burst. “What are you babbling about?!”

“You called me ‘Acastus.'”

Rodney opened his mouth, but all at once his face drained of color, and his anger melted away into shock. “I... oh my god...” He glanced quickly in Teyla’s direction, and then he turned and ran out of the ring, disappearing into the hallways beyond. 

It was silent for a long while after that, everyone staring at the empty doorway in shocked surprise.

“What was _that_ about?” Cadman wondered aloud, sounding as annoyed as Radek felt.

“Mr. Radek, I was going to tell you before, but didn't get the chance to,” Aiyana’s voice broke the silence. “He...He _is_ retired from Broadway. He’s not just an artistic director.”

He spun around to face the timid songstress. “What?”

She nodded. “He won a Tony award for co-directing a show in the late 80’s.”

Teyla looked horribly upset, staring down at the sandy floor. “Ayiana speaks the truth.”

Ayiana nervously clasped her hands together. “You see, I did some research. He went on to write a big, full-scale production—something he worked on for a decade, and in the process took an old friend from Julliard under his wing.” The woman turned pale. “There are rumors that the two men were lovers, but... I guess that’s not important.”

“What did he write?” Radek asked, curious for some odd reason.

“Oh, I’m sure you've heard of it. It’s called ‘Phantom of the Opera’.”

Radek’s heart stopped, his mind refusing to comprehend what he’d just heard. “No, he couldn’t have. Acastus Kolya is the writer and director of Phantom of the Opera.” But his mind was already drawing the parallels, because hadn't Rodney just called him ‘Acastus’ a moment ago?

Ayiana looked terribly upset. “Mr. Kolya was Mr. McKay’s friend from Julliard. In a lawsuit filed quite a long time ago, Mr. McKay claimed that Mr. Kolya stole the entire story from him—everything about the musical from the lyrics and music to the story.”

Any anger that Radek might have previously had was quickly melting away into shock. “What...?”

Teyla took a step forward, nodding slowly. “I knew Rodney when he was writing ‘Phantom of the Opera.’ Kolya stole the entire screenplay and then burned the evidence. Rodney no longer had any proof that it was his, and his case was dismissed.”

“And the musical went on to win hordes of Tony awards, including Best Musical and Best Director.” Ayiana fidgeted nervously. 

“Forgive me,” Teyla murmured. “He didn’t want any of you to know.”

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense.

“Well, that explains a few things,” Ronon dryly commented. 

But Radek was already on his way out of the ring, heading through the hallways beyond to find Rodney. He had to find him, now. 

As it turned out, Rodney was outside, sitting against the concrete foundation facing the road. Radek came to a halt beside him, plopping down against the wall.

“Sorry about that,” Rodney finally said, his voice more somber than Radek had ever heard it.

“It is all right,” he answered. “Ayiana told us why you were so upset.”

Rodney didn’t say anything, and instead leaned back, letting his gaze wander upwards. “I should've been a scientist instead,” he finally murmured. “At least there would be a footnote of my contribution in a textbook somewhere.”

Radek shrugged. “I don’t know. You are good at what you do—even if you do need to work on your people skills a bit.”

The Canadian signed deeply, staring up at the stars. “So, Teyla told you, then.”

He shook his head. “Actually, Ayiana knew you from her time on Broadway.” He leaned back against the concrete, shifting uncomfortably. “Though I must say, ‘Think of Me’ is a brilliant song.”

He snorted. “Send your praises to Acastus Kolya.”

“I would rather give my praises to the songwriter.”

Rodney was silent for a very long time, and when he did speak, his voice was barely a whisper. “I was such a fool. I loved him, and he used me—he didn't even think twice about it.” 

Radek didn't know what to say right away. It was a stunning confession from Rodney, one he hadn't expected. Not knowing what else to say, he decided that perhaps a confession of his own was in order. 

“You know, a long time ago I loved an acrobat that worked here. We were both young and crazy, he and I, and he promised to stay by me forever. But...Barnum and Bailey came through one year, and they hired him—promised him all sorts of money. And he left me here all alone.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I... It hurt, terribly...”

Rodney glanced over at him dismally. “Love sucks, doesn't it? You think you’re a part of something special, but then it all goes away.” He shuddered in the nighttime chill. “You don’t have anyone in the end.”

Radek looked over at him, and for the first time since he’d met this man, he felt a sort of warmth towards him. “Rodney, our troupe... we are a family.”

“Yes?”

He kept his expression carefully even, and spoke a desire from his heart he hadn't even known he’d had. “You could be a part of it, if you wanted.” 

Rodney looked over to him, his face completely miserable.

There wasn't really anything else to say, not now. Radek reached over and patted Rodney on the shoulder. “Come back inside, now. It is cold, and the others are worried.”

He still didn't say anything, and Radek decided that maybe he needed some time alone. He stumbled to his feet, his legs protesting the sudden movement, and stretched. Rodney didn't say anything in return—hell, he didn't even _look_ at him. 

“We will be inside.” Radek made his way back into the building, sighing deeply as he did so.

* * *

When Radek finally made his way back to the others, they were all huddled together in a tight circle around Teyla, who appeared to be explaining everything to them.

“...and ever since, he has not been quite the same.” Her head turned towards Radek, and she smiled weakly in recognition. 

“He is outside,” he answered the unspoken question as he melded with his troupe. “He needs time alone.”

Everyone looked so sad, and Radek felt it, too. While Rodney’s behavior was inexcusable, at least they knew why he’d acted the way he did. 

“Should he be left alone?” Katie asked softly. “Maybe we should all go out and talk to him together.”

”And say what?” John asked, turning to her. “Sorry someone stole your life’s work and played with your emotions while they were at it?”

Teyla put her hand on John’s shoulder. “Rodney is...a character, I will admit. But he is normally not so antagonistic.” Her head drooped. “Ever since then, he no longer knows how to trust people.” Turning to Radek, she shook her head. “I am sorry. I didn’t know this would happen. I am to blame.”

“No, Teyla, I’m the one to blame.”

Radek turned to see Rodney standing in the hall, his face red from the cold wind outside, his expression completely defeated. “I got caught up in this, way too much. I always do with these kinds of things.” He took a few tentative steps towards them, the only sound that of the sand underneath his shoes. When he looked up at Radek, he frowned.

“I’m sorry I messed up your circus,” he muttered. “I’ll leave now.”

“You don’t have to go,” Radek blurted out quickly.

Still looking miserable, he looked up. “Why would you possibly want me to stay?”

“Because we’re a family,” Elizabeth cooed, stepping out from around Radek to approach Rodney, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes when you have a new addition to a family, things are a little rocky at first.”

“But... I’m not a part of this family.”

It was silent for several seconds until Radek repeated what he’d told Rodney earlier. “You could be.”

After several more seconds of silence, Rodney muttered softly, “Well, I guess maybe I could stay a little longer...”

Katie Brown shrieked out a “Yay!” before running over to him and tackling him with a hug. Despite himself, Radek couldn't resist laughing with everyone else. Elizabeth laced an arm around Rodney’s shoulders as the entire troupe surged around him. Kate and Laura both latched themselves into the group hug, and after much cajoling John and Ronon joined in as well. 

Radek stood and watched the scene, something deep within his heart stirring. Teyla was beaming as she watched (just before being drug into the group hug by John). 

This was his family, _his_ troupe. He couldn't be prouder.


	2. Chapter 2

Another month passed, and spirits were up. The classes were going amazingly well, and truth be told, everyone noticed the difference in their performing styles. 

He’d bumped all of the part-timers up to full-time performing status. Chuck, Ronon’s assistant, was training daily with various styles of fire dancing, while Ronon was trying his luck with a new capoeira routine involving swords and fiery staffs. 

The two of them working in tandem was a remarkable sight to behold, Radek thought to himself. He’d never utilized them together, and for the first time he couldn't imagine why it hadn't occurred to him to do so. 

Jennifer Keller and Lindsay Novak were two other part-timers that were now on the full-time roll as acrobats. They also had three new faces—Ms. Miko, Ms. Simpson, and Ms. Dumais. They were their new stagehands, and quite experienced at that. 

The new performance area was nothing short of amazing, though if Radek had to tell John Sheppard to stop playing on the new harness-pulley system one more time, he’d scream. (Apparently, John had invented a new game that he liked to call ‘yo-yo’. Though Radek didn't know exactly what the rules were, it appeared to be like something he’d seen in a Mission: Impossible movie once.)

“What do you think?” Rodney asked him, breaking his train of thought. “Am I a genius or am I a genius?”

Radek couldn't help but smile as he stared up at the high rise, and the graceful actions of the acrobats. “It looks nice, yes.”

Rodney’s expression turned smugger as he stared up at the empty stands. “There probably won’t be too many people here tonight. You know, it’s only our... er... _your_ sneak peek, and it’d take a few weeks for word to get out.”

Radek nodded. “I wanted to ask you. Teyla and I were speaking yesterday, discussing a possible story for the circus to perform for our Grand Reopening in a month.”

He looked momentarily confused before realizing. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I've just... well... I’ll have something soon.”

Radek bit his lower lip. “I thought...perhaps I could write the story. I think we should tell the story of a King.”

“A _king_? What kind of story is that?”

Nervousness gnawed at the pit of Radek’s stomach, an emotion welling up that he refused to acknowledge. “Yes, a king. He is set to be the ruler of the entire known world, and then has his birthright stolen from him by his dearest friend.”

Rodney paused a moment. “That could actually work. People like tragedy.”

”He goes on to try to live among normal people, and finds that he can’t. And then one day, he meets the Wind, who happens to own her own circus troupe, and finds a place to belong.”

Rodney had long since pulled out his notebook, scribbling notes furiously. “Yes, yes! That’s brilliant! Teyla came up with that?”

“Well, actually, it was—.”

”I've got to go start writing before I lose my train of thought!” McKay chirped happily, scampering off into the bowels of the circus like a mouse. 

As he watched him leave, Radek felt a mixture of apprehension and anticipation, though he would never admit it. Lately, whenever Rodney McKay was in the room, he felt a bit lightheaded, and his palms a bit sweaty. He refused to entertain the notion that he could actually be attracted to his man, but…

“Mr. Radek!” Ayiana called out across the room. “Mr. Radek!” She came running towards him. “Sir! Left speaker 3A isn’t working! Mrs. Emmagan told me to ask you to cut it off.”

He nodded quickly. “Yes, I’ll go up there and do that.”

The rafters were stuffy, and despite his years working on the high rise, he was so high up that it made him dizzy to look down at the ground. As he maneuvered himself carefully over to the faulty speaker, his mind wandered back to Rodney.

* * *

A hundred and fourteen people showed up to see the sneak peek show that night. Compared to their previous totals, it was an incredible number. 

They didn't premiere their entire show (mostly because the show wasn't completely written yet), but the difference was still staggering. Ayiana’s exotic vocals to the live music, combined with the dark atmosphere and colorful costumes (and performances that were incredible) made the entire circus seem like a new and wonderful place. 

The audience appeared to agree. They would cheer, only to have other onlookers shush them as they listened to the music and watched the dream-like performance. Teyla, also in the audience, beamed as she looked on. 

Radek stood near the edge of the ring, staring up at his acrobats with butterflies in his stomach. He was always nervous when they did stunts at incredible heights like they did, even if the harness system reduced the risk a hundred fold. 

After an internal debate, he hazarded a glance at Rodney, who was sitting in the audience like before, taking notes every now and then. As if sensing Radek’s gaze, Rodney looked up and over at Radek, who quickly looked away. 

The butterflies in his stomach had nothing to do with the show now, not as Rodney stood and began to weave his way down the stairs to him.

Ayiana began to sing a Gregorian chant to the tune of an Arabian drone, and Radek thought for a moment he might have stepped into a different world, a world in which light and sound came together to form a new kind of beauty.

“Wow, Sheppard is amazing!” Rodney remarked, pointing up at the high rise. 

“I think those classes had an impact,” Radek responded with a smile.

“He’s definitely our male lead! And then to see him performing with Elizabeth? I can’t believe the two of them haven’t started their own show by now!”

“So Sheppard will play our King?” Radek asked him carefully. 

“Absolutely! I've already cast everyone!” Rodney stopped suddenly, staring over at Radek. “I mean, uh, I've got ideas for everyone, but the final say is yours, so...”

“Tell me what you've planned.”

Rodney beamed. “Well, Elizabeth is going to be the Wind, our female lead. While the King is wandering aimlessly, he’ll see flashes of her in places, and then when he joins the troupe she’ll be the lead acrobat! And then she’ll teach him how to perform, and we’ll have a love story on our hands.”

Radek couldn’t help but smile. “Crowds always love romance.”

“Everyone will have a major role, but then they’ll become background performers to highlight whatever scene is going on at the time.”

He watched as Kate sailed down on one of the harnesses, manned by the three new stagehands. She was like a piece of silk fluttering down from the heavens, reminiscent of a butterfly. 

In that moment, Radek realized, things may look different, but nothing had really changed at all.

* * *

Later that night, after everyone had filed out to rest, Elizabeth remained, her delicate fingers repairing a torn piece of fabric in her hands.

“How long has it been since you were with Grodin?” she asked softly, as if asking about the weather. He almost sputtered.

“I... Almost twenty years,” he admitted, his mind wandering back to his old lover. “But... Peter Grodin was a long time ago.”

Elizabeth did not look up from her sewing, and shrugged. “That’s a long time to be alone.”

He chuckled, though it was mirthless. “I am not alone. I have the troupe with me.”

She didn't answer for a long time as she continued her work. “Rodney seems to trust you.” She pulled a long length of thread through, and flipped the fabric over. “Teyla says he hasn't trusted anyone like that since... _that_ happened.”

“So?”

She smiled, but still did not look up. “Just an observation. Nothing more.”

He frowned. “If you are implying that Rodney and I should…”

”I am implying no such thing,” she interrupted, still smiling. “ _Your_ mind skews my words.”

He frowned deeply, the butterflies returning to his stomach. “I... there is nothing to this.”

“All right.” But she still smiled, staring down at her garment.

“Really!”

She chuckled, and finally looked up. “I believe you, Radek. But if you keep vehemently stating your innocence when I've already told you I believe you, well... I might start to have _doubts_.” 

His body stiffened. Was she right? Was he attracted to Rodney? 

She grinned brightly as she stood and made her way to the door. “A story about a King who loses his birthright, and is taken in by the owner of a circus? Rodney will eventually realize that you wrote the story about him.”

Radek’s heart might have thundered out of his chest. “I...”

“You know, he always goes up and sits in the stands late at night,” she interrupted him quickly. “He looks so lonely...” 

And with that, she was gone.

'Evil, evil woman,' Radek thought to himself as he turned back to his work and tried not to think about what had been said. But without his conscious permission, after a few minutes he found himself leaving the office and walking out to the ring. Sure enough, Rodney was sitting up in the stands, staring up at the domed ceiling.

“We need colored lights,” Rodney called out, never having looked down. “Blue spotlights—and red, too.”

Radek slowly climbed the stairs and sat down beside Rodney, staring up at the ceiling. “Sounds interesting.”

“Makes it more dream-like,” he continued. “I’m thinking that the show will start out in blue tones, and eventually change to red, bright colors as the King finds passion, and his happiness in life.”

He nodded. “I didn't get to tell you earlier, but the show was incredible. I gave you trouble in the beginning, but you make a good show.”

Rodney snorted. “Yeah, after I nearly drove everyone insane. Besides, it would be nothing without your troupe.” He finally dropped his head, staring over at him.

When Radek turned his head to face Rodney, their faces were mere inches apart, and a long, awkward silence ensued. He couldn't help but stare at Rodney’s lips, and wanted so desperately to lean in and kiss him. 

Rodney leaned in slightly and closed his eyes, and Radek leaned in as well...

“I... um... I should go,” Rodney awkwardly sputtered, hopping to his feet suddenly. “See you tomorrow, then?” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran down the stairs as fast as his legs could take him.

* * *

Another month and a half went by, and Radek found that Rodney was actively avoiding being alone with him. He wanted to hit himself in the head for being so forward with the man, but he hadn't been able to help himself…

Word had spread from their sneak peak show, and subsequently their Grand Reopening had been a huge hit. They’d been expecting a fair crowd, but hadn't expected to sell out all weekend long— _three weeks in a row_.

Teyla couldn't be happier as she surveyed the crowd in the distance. She was standing beside Rodney, having a conversation that he couldn't hear, but she seemed to be quite pleased. And while Rodney looked sheepish, he seemed pleased as well.

They had earned quite a promising review in the local paper—“a new type of circus that might just reinvent all circuses everywhere”. People were coming in crowds to watch them, and the phone rang off the hook with people looking for autographs of the acrobats, or for show times. 

He would be giddy about it, if it weren't for the situation with Rodney. 

Speaking of Rodney, he was strolling in Radek’s direction with Teyla in tow, looking quite pleased. “Radek, you won’t believe this!” he chirped happily.

“There is a man here who wishes to speak with you after this show,” Teyla told him, smiling. “He is the owner of the Atlantis Casino and Hotel.”

Atlantis… it sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. “And?”

Teyla smiled. “Atlantis is in Las Vegas. He wants to hire the troupe to do a week-long show in the exclusive Pegasus Theatre.”

Rodney was so excited he was almost jumping up and down. “If we play this right, and do a good show, your troupe could become a household name in this country! Every show that’s ever been publicized in the Pegasus Theatre became huge!”

He didn’t know what to say at first. It was almost unfathomable, to think that they’d gone from such obscurity to an offer to perform on the Strip in the space of a few months. “Are you certain?”

Teyla nodded vigorously. “Yes! He had a cancellation from a group that is supposed to perform the week after next, and he wants you to perform in their stead!”

Radek thought his head might burst. This was incredible! Never had he dreamed of such things, even his father hadn't dreamed of such wonderful things...!

* * *

“...and since they've had a cancellation, the owner wants us to perform the week after next.”

There were several gasps among the troupe as they listened wide-eyed to Radek. 

“So, you’re serious? The Strip?”John asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s wonderful!” Elizabeth spoke up. “This is the chance of a lifetime!”

Radek cast a glance over at Teyla and Rodney, then looked back to his performers. “I haven’t accepted yet. I wanted to speak with all of you before—.”

“You haven’t?!”

“Why not?”

“It’s not too late, is it?!”

He almost stuttered with all the interruptions, but decided to laugh instead. “I suppose everyone is in agreement, then?” He looked over to Rodney and nodded.

“To Atlantis, everyone!” Rodney avowed. 

And everyone cheered.

* * *

Radek had not been to Las Vegas in many years, and he was amazed at how much the city had grown in such recent times. The ride was stuffy and uncomfortable, but he attributed that to the unwise decision to pile the entire troupe into two minivans.

Rodney, of course, had taken it upon himself to be a tour guide and gave long, boring lectures on everything from casino architecture to the dangers of gambling addiction. After twenty minutes, someone threw a shoe at him, and it almost hit its mark. Rodney was incensed, but it made everyone else feel better.

Atlantis was, without a doubt, _the_ destination on the Strip. Its beautiful spires climbed into the sky, towering over the land below like skyscrapers. The owner had given them the top three levels on three of the spires, the ‘performer suites’ as he’d called them. The others had insisted that Radek take the uppermost suite, but truth be told, he wasn't sure he liked being up so high, even if he was a former acrobat.

The Pegasus Theatre was incredible, a stage unlike anything he’d ever seen in his life. Even Barnum and Bailey did not perform in such lavish accommodations. Setting up for the show was relatively easy. The Theatre was well equipped to handle a variety of outfits, and very little work was required to construct the high rise.

Radek crossed his arms, staring up at the stage in glee. He couldn't believe he was here, and that his troupe was going to perform live on the Las Vegas Strip— _tonight_. It all seemed so unreal.

And he had Rodney McKay to thank.

A smile crept on his lips as he thought of him. Yes, Rodney McKay, annoying and loud as he was, had saved his circus. He’d given life back to it, and... he’d breathed a little bit of life back into Radek, too...

It was almost unfathomable that someone could come to mean so much to him in so small a period of time. He didn't know if Rodney felt the same way, and honestly doubted that he did, but he had to communicate it to the man somehow just how much he’d affected things.

Though, Radek thought to himself, knowing Rodney, he was already crediting himself with the success of the circus. 

The thought made him smile to himself, and he found that he absolutely could not wait until tonight.

* * *

They’d sold out completely, and there were over a thousand seats in the house!

Everyone was running around backstage, the excitement ripe in the air as the troupe prepared for the big show. The band was playing bits and pieces of various songs, while Ayiana was warming up with ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ and other sounds Radek didn't quite know how to describe. He was doing a last minute check on the stage with Rodney, making sure all the structures were solid and in their correct places.

“No, that doesn't go there!” Rodney shouted up at one of the Pegasus stagehands. “Move it to the left!”

“It won’t be even with the other harnesses if we go to the left!”

“Make it go to the left! If we don’t move it, our two stars are going to collide with each other midair!”

The stagehand grumbled something unintelligible before complying, shifting the pulley system to its correct location, a loud screeching sound echoing up in the rafters.

After a moment of observation, Rodney looked down at his clipboard. “I think we’re about done here. Everything is in its right place. So, if it’s all right with you, I’m going to go now—.”

“You've been avoiding me,” Radek blurted out suddenly, watching as Rodney blanched. “You want to talk about it?”

His voice turned whiny. “Um, no?”

Radek suppressed a shudder of nervousness, and all at once decided to just be done with it. “I... I’m in love with you, Rodney.”

It was a difficult admission for Radek, and he hadn't planned to say it quite like that.

Rodney paled considerably in response, his mouth sputtering for words that didn't seem to want to come. 

His eyes trailed down to the ground, and his stomach twisted in the pain of rejection. “I know you don’t feel same way, but...”

“No!” he sputtered quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not that at all!” Rodney fidgeted nervously. “I... um… I feel... I just don’t want to mess this up… with you and me, I mean.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not good at relationshippy things, you know.” He sighed. “I got nervous, okay? That’s why I was avoiding you.”

Radek’s heart sped up immeasurably, his breath catching.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel the same way. I just… uh… I didn't think you did feel that, you know…” He opened his mouth to speak further, but froze in his tracks, his eyes affixed somewhere in the distance. 

“Oh my god, no! Not him!”

Frowning, Radek turned to see a tall, severe looking man sitting in the front row. “Who is that?” he inquired.

“That is Acastus Kolya!”

In an instant, rage began to boil in Radek’s blood, and he found himself marching over to the man who’d destroyed Rodney’s life—despite the fervent protests of Rodney himself.

“Well, hello,” Kolya greeted him, standing and extending his hand. “You’re Radek Zelenka, the owner of this circus troupe. Congratulations on making it to Las Vegas.”

He regarded his outstretched hand and promptly ignored it, but forced himself to otherwise remain civil. Getting himself arrested wouldn't benefit his troupe at all. “Ah, Mr. Kolya. I've heard much about you.” Staring the taller man in the eye, he glared. “I couldn't have done it without Rodney’s help.”

Kolya laughed deeply. “Yes, Mr. McKay is a wonderful pool of brilliance—aren't you, Rodney?”

Rodney looked like he might shrink away, and Zelenka’s anger was growing quickly.

“Yes, well,” Radek answered, “I suppose normal men like you must _steal_ their brilliance from others.”

The look in Kolya’s eyes turned dangerous, but his voice remained under control for the sake of public appearances. “Mr. Zelenka, brilliance is a matter of action. I have a sizable amount of money, I might add, for my past actions.”

He glanced over at Rodney, who looked rattled, and smiled at him, a warmth suddenly welling up within. “Perhaps, Mr. Kolya. But we are rich in a way that you will _never_ know.”

Kolya laughed again. “Ah, so you’re a _smitten_ fool, then.”

Radek smiled brilliantly, more sure than of this than anything ever before in his life. “Believe what you will, Mr. Kolya, but know this: Of the two of us, _you_ are the poorer man.” 

He turned on his heels and left, leaving a slightly stunned Kolya in his wake. Rodney followed him closely, an unreadable look in his eyes. “Radek…”

“We'll talk after show, hmm?” he said quickly, smiling reassuringly at the rattled director.

* * *

Tension wound in Radek’s stomach as he stood backstage in the dark hallway, softly illuminated by the blue lights that highlighted his troupe’s performance. They were performing wonderfully, a fact that didn't surprise him at all. Dancing on the stage, and then sailing through the air, they were every bit as beautiful as he had always known they could be.

Footsteps approached him from the side, and he turned to see Rodney striding towards him, a strangely intense look in his eyes.

“What is wro—?”

He never quite got the chance to finish his sentence as Rodney grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss.

He was surprised, but his shock melted away quickly as he returned the kiss in kind, the otherworldly atmosphere of the music coloring their mood. Their tongues slid against each other in wonderful harmony, their gasps coinciding with the rise and fall of Ayiana’s song onstage. 

“I just realized something,” Rodney muttered, gasping for air. “You wrote this story for me, didn't you?”

Radek smiled warmly. “I am surprised you did not realize sooner.”

“I’m the King, and you’re the Wind.” His voice was incredulous. “Absolutely brilliant.”

Their lips crashed together again, while on stage Elizabeth—no, _not_ Elizabeth—the _Wind_ somersaulted, a flash of bright red passion in the midst of dark blue stagnancy. The King approached her, drawn into the passion of the Wind, while Rodney trailed his hand down to pull at Radek’s shirt. 

This was a bad idea—the worst of bad ideas, really. If the stage manger happened to walk up at that very moment, he’d kick the troupe out for sure. But then Rodney rocked his hips against his, and Radek suddenly forgot to think of anything except the wonderful friction as he responded in kind.

Ayiana sang of distant worlds and heroes as Radek slipped a hand into Rodney’s pants, grasping his erection lightly. Rodney gasped at the contact, just as the audience marveled at Laura’s dancing skills. Applause echoed throughout Pegasus, the sound of Rodney’s moans lost within. 

“I love you, too,” Rodney breathed, his eyes half-closed. 

Radek smiled and kissed him again, lost in the haze of desire, just as the King and the Wind began to dance in unison. The dark, regretful blue light was beginning to brighten, and Radek could see the want in Rodney’s eyes.

They had come too far to go back, and Radek no longer cared.

He dropped to his knees before Rodney, unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, deftly taking it into his mouth in one swift motion. Rodney’s cry was lost in the sound of applause as Katie, Laura, and Kate performed acrobatic wonders as the avatars of the goddesses of fate, weaving an unknown destiny in the air.

Ayiana began to sing a new song, a song in Latin extolling the beauty of love and desire, and as Radek swirled his tongue around Rodney’s erection, he agreed with her. The sight of Rodney, undone and helpless before him as he blindly grasped for his hair, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. The soft noises he made were exquisite, and were it not for the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of the audience, he would be able to hear him better—even if his rational mind told him that, for the moment, _quieter_ was wiser.

Suddenly he stiffened, and shuddered in Radek’s grip as he came, spilling himself into his mouth. He greedily swallowed every drop of him, the salty, bitter taste a flavor he hoped to memorize again and again in the future. Rodney slumped against the framework, sweat rolling down his forehead as Radek rearranged his clothing into its proper form. 

Zelenka stood slowly, his knees protesting the movement, and he leaned forward to kiss Rodney’s forehead, wiping away some of the sweat. “Stay with us,” he finally murmured. “Stay with the troupe.”

Rodney, still breathless, nodded slowly. “Okay.”

The colors on the stage had turned from dark blue to dark red, the rebirth of the King beginning as the Wind welcomed him, drawing him up into the sky to dance with her among far-away stars. No one else could understand the King the way the Wind did—no one else knew the pain of such scorn and defeat, nor the joys and pleasure of such heights. 

Radek’s heart almost stopped as John performed a double somersault high above the stage, and _almost_ missed gripping the bar. The man was showboating again, and in Vegas of all places…

Rodney kissed him again as Ayiana began to trill a beautiful tune, the King and the Wind continuing their sensual dance around each other. It was Radek’s turn to be surprised as the King took control, reclaiming his long forgotten power of mind. 

Rodney’s hands were surprisingly nimble as he unbuttoned his pants, and as he slipped inside to palm his cock, Radek couldn't help but wonder where exactly the circus’ story ended and their lives began. 

Out of the corner of his eye, a bright flash of red light flooded the stage as the King and the Wind neared their union, dancing in circles, and sailing through the air in ever-closer maneuvers. 

Rodney’s mouth surrounded him, and Radek couldn't’ think anymore, didn't want to think. All he could do was watch the performance as he neared his release, watching as the Wind and the King became one as his own world went dark, his body shuddering as he came. 

Exhaustion overtook him, a post-coital haze settling on his mind. Rodney grinned smugly, a smile that was full of promise.

“We’ll finish this later then, shall we?” he asked. “In that glass-domed room of yours?”

He smiled his agreement as Rodney left to supervise the stagehands, already having been gone far too long. A quick glance at the stage revealed the show—the King and the Wind dancing among fiery spectacles, Ronon and Chuck somersaulting with blazing instruments in hand.

The act was over, and there was a standing ovation, the crowd roaring wildly. And quite suddenly, the future looked unimaginably bright to Radek Zelenka.


End file.
